Dishes
by whispered love 13
Summary: Who ever knew doing a chore like dishes could do so much? One-shot Seddie


**Dishes**

Its something to do with dishes. Taking them off the shelves and placing them one by one on the table, filling them up with food, and ultimately putting them away into the sink to clean. Bowls that you poured with your favorite cereal, flat ones that you filled with way too much spaghetti. Where you look at it, and it looks like there is no way in hell that you'll be able to finish it, and then the next everything you just said you wouldn't finish is already invading your stomach. And then ultimately, its time to clean up and restore order in the kitchen by cleaning up the mess. That's the part that I liked best of all. The way the water filled up, warm when a hand brushed by the soon to be dirty water. The suds that sprouted from when you mixed up soap and water, the sweet smell of apples or citrus wafting through the air.

I had a habit of doing them when I was alone. Just me and the dishes getting some alone time while Carly walked into her room after dinner. I told her when I moved in I would do them all the time, to which she didn't object; she didn't want her pretty polished nails to get ruined. So I cleaned up after every dinner, and put everything back into place. Then I would plop down on the couch and grab the bag of potato chips I left that same morning to watch Celebrities Underwater.

I never said I was a clean freak. I just liked doing the dishes. I liked the way the water touched me, the way the soap bubbles would stick to my skin after pulling out a pot from the water. Almost like I was saving it from drowning. But most of all I liked the silence. The whole aspect of being alone, with just my thoughts swirling in my head as the stereo played slow music in the background. Normally, I would keep it on the classical crap because it wouldn't make me mad like rock did. It actually made me relax, and sometimes I could even close my eyes and sway to the music as if I lived alone and no one would even think to bother me. Nothing could touch me. No drama for a whole twenty minutes while I was in the kitchen. No loud noises except for the scraping of plates as I racked them up to dry.

But one day it wasn't the same. I felt it like a breeze too strong for a fragile branch. There was a knock on the door, followed by the swoosh it made by opening it and the sudden closing thud. I turned toward it and expected none other than that dork. Ever since he started dating Carly, it was like he moved in along with me. It's not like he was never here before. But now, it was worse. Much worse in my opinion.

"Hey Sam." Freddie said as he walked in casually.

"Carly's in her room. Get." I said, focusing my attention to the dishes that were soaking away in the sink. He wouldn't move, making me lose my focus and turn to him again. Normally, he would just take the hint and just leave. But he was standing in front of the stairs, not motioning upwards. "What Freddork?" He frowned.

"Come on Sam, aren't we a little old for nicknames?" he said, digging his hands in his pockets, fumbling for his pear phone no doubt. Sure enough, almost as I was thinking it, his hands were messing around with that technological contraption. It's true, we were a little too old for nicknames, being that I was going into my third year of college and he was already thinking of applying to med school. But it was too easy, and these habits are something that I just can't control. I've had them since the sixth grade, stopping me now seemed impossible.

"You still into that whole techno thing. That's why, because you haven't changed a bit." I said, going back to the dishes. He walked into the kitchen, around the same time that I reached inside the water for the dirty spatula. His hands shot up in the air. "No Freddifer. Kitchen is off limits when I do the dishes." I warned him with a look in my eyes that said back off in the nicest but most threatening way possible.

"Why? I could help you and get everything done quicker-"

"I mean it, if you want to keep that precious life line of a phone you'll back away from the suds and go upstairs to Carly like you always done in the past."

"Okay, okay," he slowly retreated and went up the stairs.

I wish I could say that he got the hint and never ever came to interfere my time with my dishes. But he didn't. The next day he did the exact same thing. Hung out to talk to me while I was doing the dishes before going upstairs to see his precious Carly. It was annoying. It was weird. But most of all it was interfering. It made everything that was the one thing orderly in my day completely unorganized. I would always have this time to think of things. But with him there trying to strike a conversation, all my inward talks would have to be put to a stop so I could focus on him and the dishes. Pretty soon he would spend more time with me and then go for a little while to Carly's room. He would always leave me for her.

Its not that I was jealous of their relationship. It was about time she took the hint and dated the dork. It was bound to happen sooner or later since he said he stayed close by just to see if it was possible that they would date. Yes he told this straight to her face. The good things was that she finally decided it was right to date him since that time he was run over by the taco truck that was meant to run over Carly. The hero phase was gone and replaced by the boyfriend one.

At first I gave them their space, letting them have their honeymoon phase to themselves. But soon it became routine that they wouldn't do anything super mushy in front of me for my own benefit. Which was nice. Pretty soon it was as if they became almost like friends again and that's when feelings started pouring out. I felt the way he would like staring at me, making me hit him to remind him I wasn't his, so he needed to stop looking at me like that. He understood what it meant. At least I thought he did. And one punch on the arm a day is what kept him away from looking at me like that. I don't even know how it started. The one thing that I did know was that he had to stop looking at me that way, for Carly's sake. And mine too I guess. I wasn't going to deny it; the dork filled out nicely. Too nice for me to not notice in a friend-like manner.

"Thinking again?" he said as I was lost in our past.

"Why are you here again?" I said, grabbing the last dish and putting it away, turning my back away from him to avoid his dark brown eyes. I glanced at the clock; I finished almost ten minutes earlier than I normally did. Talk about making this a chore.

"Guess you don't need my help anymore huh?" he said, leaning against the kitchen door. I brushed past him and sat down on the couch. I stretched all over it so he wouldn't think about sitting beside me.

"Carly's upstairs." I said, grabbing the same bag and opening it. I turned back and saw him disappear up the stairs and into Carly's bed.

We were adults. I knew what went on in there. I could hear muffled voices and quiet laughter all night long. It was always the same. And I always felt as though leaving was the only appropriate thing to do at times like these. At first that was exactly what I did. I would leave them alone and hit up a bar or just walked over to a burger joint. But now, I wanted to hear, like a pervert. I imagined that it was me that was quietly laughing, pretended that it was his hand that traced lines on my stomach, biting me in places that I couldn't reach, making love to me all night long. I closed my eyes, envisioning brown hair in my fingers as I sighed sweet release in the dark, and ultimately cuddling up to him and letting him lay with me until the next morning. I wondered how long I would keep torturing myself with that. How many more times I would hear them? Would I picture them in bed together? Would I think about them both in the same bed, naked, with a man that (though I would never want to openly admit) I wanted? I thought I was going to listen to this forever.

Until one night.

I was about to begin my dishes when everything happened in an instant: Freddie walked in, headed straight to Carly's room and began yelling his head off.

"What do you think I am Carly? Your lap dog that's too in love with you to not notice something going on between you and Griffin? You think I wouldn't find out with him bragging about how good he is to every chick at the bar? How do you think that it makes me feel for him to tell them that I'm gullible and easily persuaded? That I should have seen this coming a mile away? How could you do that?" I could hear Carly trying to reason with him, but Freddie overpowered her words. "No, I don't want to hear anything about how much this is confusing to you. You're my girlfriend aren't you? Yes? Okay then, why do I hear about you and Griffin at the coffee lounge? That you kissed him!" I could hear her sobbing softly, "You did, didn't you? Oh god…" I heard Freddie coming down the stairs swiftly, not even looking in my direction. But I didn't need to see his face to know that there were tears streaming down his face. I just stood there in the doorway, and watched as Carly walked down with make up smeared eyes. She looked like a mess, and I didn't know what else to do but walk up to her and bring her in a tight embrace. I always thought there was something going on with Griffin but I never paid it no mind. I always thought she was crazy for Freddie just like he was for her. Guess it wasn't like that at all.

"I didn't think he would-" she began sobbing.

"It's okay Carls. Everything's going to be okay." And she stayed crying on my shoulder.

No dishes were done that night.

In the early morning I slipped outside to go find Freddie at the one place he would always go to when something was really bothering him: the fire escape.

The only two times that I went there was when we had our first kiss, the other was when he found out his mom developed breast cancer. Both times I didn't know what to say except sorry. Sorry that this was a crappy time for him, and that I was here if he needed someone. Sure enough there he was, sitting on his chair. He was always predictable in situations like these. I quietly knocked to make my presence known and threw my legs over, taking a seat beside him. I saw his eyes were red, showing that he had been crying, and was lacking sleep. I didn't know what to even say to him. I didn't know where to begin.

"I didn't want to believe it you know?" he went straight to it, making me a little relieved but scared. I didn't want him to blow up in my face like he did to her yesterday. That's not the Freddie I know. "I just thought he was being a cocky son of a bitch. But when Carly told me that she did-" he began choking on his words, making me catch a lump on my throat. He was never one to cry, only when something hit him hard. It was like the time that he found out about his mom. He just cried all night out here. And I didn't mock him, I figured he was hurting enough without my own contribution. He covered his face with his hands and I didn't know whether I should leave him there or bring him close to me. So I let him release his anger, his frustration that he had in him. I waited until he calmed down, remaining as still as a statue while he just kept crying. When he was done, he didn't say anything. He just stared at the sky, the buildings, anything that didn't have to do with Carly and him. I felt a buzzer go off in my pants and knew that it was Carly messaging me. I flipped open my phone and read the message she sent.

_**Hey, I'm going over to Spencer's. Getting out of the house seems like the right thing to do today. See you later.**_

"Let's do some dishes." Came out of my mouth as soon as I finished reading it.

"What?" he said. "Sam, I just got my heart broken into a million little pieces and you want me to do dishes?"

"Trust me it'll do you some good. Why do you think I do them?" I said, dragging him by the arm. Anything to get him smiling again.

"But she'll be-"

"At Spencer's. She texted me just right now. Now stop whining and let's go."

He was reluctant to step over to the building but with a little force, stepped over the threshold and accompanied me to Carly's and my apartment. I slipped inside first to make sure no one was around and opened the door for Freddie as I began getting the sink ready.

"Here, I'll wash them and you can hang them up to dry. We don't have to talk or anything if you don't want to." I explained as I turned on the radio. A slow jazz song began to play and I felt it invade my eardrums, making me deaf to everything around me. I don't know what happened next, because I honestly can't explain it. All I knew was that I was swaying my hips back and forth and I could feel a pair of hands guiding my hips. I kept my eyes closed as I felt those hands, moving me with the rhythm sensually. I turned around and wrapped my arms around Freddie's neck, my forehead brought close to his forehead. He leaned in to kiss me and I gave him entrance, letting him explore every corner, slowly and gently.

He picked me up and placed me on the couch, grabbing a fistful of hair as we resumed our kissing. I was loving and hating every second of it. Loving it because it was the guy I was dreaming of over and over to be doing these kinds of things to me. Hating it solely on the basis that he was rebounding with me. So I pulled away from him. I was not going to be a rebound. Even if it was someone like Freddie, whom I'm sure he wouldn't mean it that way.

"Wait a sec here Freddie." I said, sitting down and trying to pull my thoughts together. "We can't do this-"

"I know Sam, I know. Believe me I do. The last thing I want is to have you hate me any more than you already do." He explained. I couldn't help but smile at him for some weird reason.

"Hate you?" I softly laughed.

"What?"

"I have sort of overcome my hatred for you Freddie." I confessed. "I might even say that I like you." I looked at him and his face was in awe. I never felt so bold to say something like that. "But I don't want to be your rebound. I want you to like me. Like I like you I guess." I explained. By then, he shut up his trap and nodded. He brought his hand up toward my direction. I took it in my own and shook it confidently.

"Friends, until I get over the girl." He told me, flashing a smile. My stomach did a somersault in glee.

So it stayed that way. For a long time he wouldn't come over, but after talking it over with Carly, we all became friends again. Things were back to normal and also changed. Instead of doing dishes on my own now, Freddie would come after dinner and helped me. And though I pushed him away he wouldn't budge. I finally gave in and let him help me after a couple of days. I gave up this battle pretty quick, mostly because he didn't bother me like I thought he would. Instead, it was comforting to have him there with me. We would talk, goof around with the soap bubbles, but ultimately get the job done. We never came to the subject of what happened a few weeks back, when I confessed my deep dark secret, and I was glad that he didn't. I was happy with how things were.

But them something changed again.

Freddie came in stood in the kitchen door. "Carly home?" he asked me. I shook my head no, and also wondering what he wanted with her. Sure they were talking again, but they didn't talk to each other like they used to.

"What did you want?" I said tossing him a towel.

"Nothing. Just wanted to make sure she wasn't home."

"You two are fighting again? I swear you two need to stop-" he crushed his lips against mine, catching me off guard and alert instead of passionate like I always liked putting in my kisses. He pulled away, and I could have sworn on my alcoholic mom's lifestyle that it made me lightheaded for ten whole seconds.

"Because I felt like doing that." He said, bringing his lips closer to mine again. This time I pulled him to me, ready for what he had to throw at me.

This was the second time that no dishes were done at night.


End file.
